


Autolatry

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Canon Era, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Spot and Jack are back in the Refuge, and discussing possible (and impossible) escape methods





	Autolatry

“It ain’t a real plan,” Jack said. He reached reflexively into his pocket for a cigarette, before remembering that the guards had confiscated them with everything else. “It’s hyperthoughtical.” He’d said something similar to David back in another world, before he’d gotten thrown in the slammer and David had pointed out that a hypocrisy was a thing that could be tested, and probably that you were willing to go through with the test. Jack tried not to think about David much, but sometimes stupid things made him remember.

“I don’t care if it’s hypothetical,” Spot answered, not because he didn’t know what the word really meant, but because nitpicking a guy’s vocabulary wasn’t his battle strategy when it came to verbal sparring. “What I’m saying is that you can’t do it, and I’d like to see you have the guts to try.” 

“Who’s to say I won’t go do it tomorrow?” Jack asked. 

“Well, first off, you’se talking about breaking into the mayor’s Christmas banquet, and it was the middle of July last I checked.”

“Fine. Every day’s a banquet when you’re the mayor, right? I’ll break into his middle of July banquet, and bring you a flower off the table.” 

“Second off, you gotta break out of here first.” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Dumb luck,” Spot said, and he was right.

“Talent,” Jack argued anyway. Spot rolled his eyes. 

“Lay out your plan, Cowboy, and don’t talk about bringing me a stinkin’ flower. Do I look like I need a flower?” 

“Right. First off, when I get to the gate of the mayor’s joint, I’m going to start flirting with the hostess. I’ll smile at her, sweet talk her a bit, and she’ll open the door.” 

“And you’ll stride in there in your prison uniform and eat your fill?” 

“Nah. She’ll take me up to her room, find me some decent clothes, be real helpful if you know what….” 

“She’ll take one whiff of you and retreat in horror. You think you could charm the socks off the holy virgin herself, Jack, but not even the Jacobs kids would look twice at you now.” 

Jack wasn’t sure what kind of face he’d made, but he knew it must’ve looked pretty pitiful from Spot’s next words. “Never mind. Go flirt with your hostess. Really win her over. Come back with a crowbar and a side of suckling pork, alright.” 

“I know I’m not actually getting out of here.” 

“Probably not,” Spot said agreeably. “Not at the rate you’re going at least. I, on the other hand, plan to be out within a week.” 

“Lay out your plan, Spot.” 

“No dice. It’s not a plan for two people. Sorry.”

Jack, annoyed, threw up his hands, muttering something under his breath to the effect of, “Yeah, just ‘cause he’s short enough to slip underneath the doors like a goddamned insect…” 

Spot gave him a look that stopped Jack dead in his tracks, at least for a second. “You know, I was all ready to break out, and then come back for you. I was even gonna bring you a flower and some suckling pork, asshole.” 

“You can keep the flower. I’m pretty enough without it.” Spot said, and Jack just stared at him. In the last few months he’d wondered sometimes if having Spot around was all that was keeping him alive, because talking with him, being able to joke once in a while, was the only thing making him feel like something human, anything other than a stupid animal in a cage. He couldn’t think of any of that now, though, just that Spot was a smug bastard, and Jack didn’t owe him a thing.


End file.
